


Toy Soldier

by beautifullyheeled



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Burlesque, Clubbing, Crossdressing, Drag Queens, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 02:04:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifullyheeled/pseuds/beautifullyheeled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was paired for this wonderful prompt for the JLC-regift exchange:</p><p>“Sherlock really pulling off drag” any genre with the rating of M/E for unknownsister.</p><p>I really hope you enjoy this! It's more on the M side, and I wish I had time to push it into the E envelope. Might still later tonight with a second chapter added.</p><p>Synopsis: Do we really want to know what Sherlock does when he disappears from the flat? </p><p>Pairing: John/Sherlock</p><p>Rating: M (for frilly reasons)</p><p>Tags: cross-dressing, drag-queens, show clubs, Stag do's, poledancing</p><p>Wordcount: 2656</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tonight was a danger night.  
  
Though not the type of danger one would normally assume where a certain Mr. Sherlock Holmes was concerned. No, this was a very different type of evening altogether.  
  
These hadn’t started happening until that one case at the Red Dragon where he found he enjoyed the artistry behind the shows that took place there. The costumes, rituals, and camaraderie between the artists. So now, on these particular danger nights, he would take his leave of the flat and melt into the London night for that very same club leaving reality behind for a few hours.  
  
Switching off, unplugging, calling ‘laters’ to John as he hurriedly swept down those seventeen stairs from everyday boredom and monotony to his own little secret that he kept very much so to himself. Even Mycroft himself hadn’t been able to keep tabs on these nights; this thrilled Sherlock like nothing else.  
  
Sherlock slid into his other persona as he dropped of the grid and made his way through the maze of unknown old London to find himself at the grey battered alleyway back entrance to the club he was destined for that evening knowing that he would be able to leave everything for these few sweet thrilling hours.  
  
That night he had chosen to pull out all the stops. The others had been generous and given him a name of a superb discrete clothier who had been more than pleased to work with Sherlock under complete anonymity; how could he not knowing Sherlock had saved his business from ruin when he outed the gentleman’s assistant as a blackmailer and thief.  
  
As he entered the dressing room, he was greeted boisterously, and he, in turn smiled. A real smile. He felt comfortable here, even if it was just another facet, another persona he was honing. The people he had met were warm, bitchy, and mostly real. Meaning truthful to the point of cutting at times, but how could Sherlock fault any of them when he himself was like that often times himself.  
  
Susi pulled the La Moure box out and they all gathered around for the opening. It was a little ritual they had when anyone had something exceptional made. Lux pulled his shoe box so they could all ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ over them as well. Sherlock ripped through the ribbon stays and threw the lid back with a flourish pushing back the white tissue to reveal the jewel of a dress he had requested. Tonight he would shine.

Now, as all good plans go, it would seem as this had gone perfectly.  
  
What Sherlock did not know was that tonight was Dimmock’s stag do. What he also was hopelessly unaware of was that John had not been in the flat as he had left, but had been getting the costumes for the gents for said stag do, or that they were doing a pub crawl that very same evening that would end at said Red Dragon.  
  
This would be a danger night for the record books.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Hosiery, garters, curlers, and powder flying the mood was high. Chatter and run through discussions kept everyone busy as they dressed to greet and prepare for the opening number of the club. Tonight was Suicide Karaoke for the parties coming in interspersed with their routines, it looked to be a promising evening.  
  
Sherlock had chosen the back mirror to get ready as it was slightly around the corner in a little used alcove that looked like it used to be a closet. Neon yellow fishnets hooked to the satin and sequined suspender belt overlayed the ruffled hot pants and tutu. His corset was just as flamboyant. The front paneling neon yellow base with neon green vining and matching green ruffling on the top and bottom lacing in the back in green but hooking in the front with large silver glitter hooks. Sherlock’s neon green heels and lusciously curled blonde wig completed his look.  
  
Susi came up and looked at him approvingly, and smiled.  
  
“You work that neon lady! Come over so we can do your pretty little face up!”  
  
Finishing working his heel into the shoe, he stood and moved swiftly to Susi’s station sitting so she could work her magic.  Foundation, eyeshadow, blush, lining. Small rhinestones and finally false lashes to complete the look. When she was done, Sherlock no longer existed. Only Harlotte owned this space.  
  
“Alright ladies! Let’s pull together! Time to hit the stage and then greet!”  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
“But John!”  
  
“No. No. We are doing this right. Dresses and wigs gents!”  
  
“Alright!”  
  
“You are insane!”  
  
“I am not. Besides Dimmock will make a lovely lady and get plenty of drinks this way, won’t you?”  
  
“Well I did play Juliet once...”  
  
The gents in the group all erupt in laughter at the retort.  
  
Yes, John thought, This will be fun. Good.  
  
Gregory came and joined him sitting in the other chair.  
  
“You know we are getting too old for this right?”  
  
“No, I think you will make a lovely lady tonight. Bet you even get hit on if you wear the ginger wig...”  
  
“Really? Hmm...”  
  
“Alright boys! Let’s get this going!”  
  
Twenty minutes later, ten cross-dressed gents headed out from the hotel ready for the night and all it held.  
  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
An hour and a half later, she was mingling with the other ladies, both actual and those of them that were in drag, collecting data on the patrons when Harlotte saw them. A smile curling to her face, she swayed to the beat making her way toward the table.  
  
She could not believe they were here.  
  
She stopped two tables to the right, chatting up a banker that was cheating on his wife with one of his clients, watching them with Lux. She seemed to have them all in high spirits even beyond the buzz they had going. Tonight was about to get even more interesting for the party of ten at table fourteen.  
  
Excusing herself, she signaled Lux and walked up to chat with her.  
  
“So, who are these fine men Lux? Someone going to steal you away into the night?”  
  
“Oh, these are our Stags tonight Harlo; cute aren’t they?”  
  
Sidling up to Dimmock, Harlotte ran her gloved hand down the groom to be’s face.  
  
“Awe, Lux, he’s just a baby!”  
  
“Makes it that much sweeter!”  
  
“Oh, I don’t know. I think this ones adorable!”  
  
Harlotte slid into John’s lap as she ran a hand down his chest feeling his heart rate jump. Whether from a stranger on his lap or arousal, it was hard to judge. Interesting.  
  
“Hmm, what’s your name?”  
  
“Johnanes?”  
  
“Johnanes?” She makes sure to lengthen and purr the name. “Not quite so sure now are we?”  
  
“No, quite sure. Thank you.”  
  
His ears are blushing. Her lips were so close she could feel the heat rise. Oh, this was quite marvelous.  
  
Standing Harlotte whispers something into Lux’s ear and the two share a laugh before she glides off toward the curtain for the dressing area.  
  
“Um, excuse me. Who is that?” John asks as he watches the very tall blonde walk away and through the curtain.  
  
“Oh, her? That’s Harlotte! She’s wonderful!”  
  
“I just don’t remember meeting her is all...during the case.”  
  
“She’s new! Shiney little thing isn’t she! She does a wonderful Britney!”  
  
“Britney?!”  
  
“Oh yes, you should see it when she does Toxic!”

“Oi, John!" Greg leaned over conspiratorially towards him giggling in his lager. "That one thought you were pretty cute I think!”  
  
“Greg! Why don’t you shut it yea!”  
  
The round of friendly laughter around the table was warm. It was true he had reacted, but he swore there was something familiar about the performer that had wound up in his lap. John wished he could put his finger on it and soon before things got out of hand with this group.  
  
“I’m telling you. That’s a new one, she wasn’t here.”  
  
“Well she took a shine to you right away. Good taste that.”  
  
“Cor, Greg! It’s all apart of the experience! All in fun!”  
  
“If you say so John, I don’t see any of the other performers in laps of patrons, do you?”  
  
 _Damn the man, he was right._  
  
 _Well he’d just have to wait and see._  
  
It’d be too damn bad if she turned out to be a bloke...There was only one of those he had in mind for those types of activities even though they had yet to get anywhere with it. It really was his fault, but entering into a relationship like that with Sherlock would be damn complicated.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The first turnabout of the evening was exhilarating. John had not recognised him, even if his body had responded in very promising ways. This might just be the way to finally crack his army doctors reserve. After all, it was a Stag Do, and men tended to stretch their horizons or act a fool for fun on these type of outings. They considered them larks; flights of fancy to be regaled for weeks later. All Harlotte needed was the right moment.  
  
“Lady friend, that’s him isn’t it?”  
  
Lux had come into the dressing area for a quick change for her performance. She had really taken her under her wing where this type of exhibition and voyeurism were concerned. She was glad to know her. In truth, most of the ladies that worked here seemed very perceptive and cuttingly honest which made her comfortable here. The make-up, wigs, attire were their battle armor. I made it even more appealing because they were losing themselves to a completely different persona as well as physicality.  
  
“Yes. That is my doctor.”  
  
“Mm, I remember him. Sex that one is. H-O-T!”  
  
“And mine.”  
  
A soft knowing smile crossed Lux’s face.  
  
“Yes, lovie, yours. Hopefully. Get to it!”  
  
“Tonight very well be the night. I have plans.”  
  
“Ohhh! I cannot wait to see this!”  
  
  
The music was loud and the atmosphere high.   
  
It was the club portion of the night that everyone looked forward too. Main performances out of the way, this was the free-style of the night. Time to cut loose and let go on the dancefloor to sometimes be pulled up on stage with one of the ladies in an exhibition of sorts.  
  
Most of their group had gone to the coat check and grabbed their packs and changed into club or street attire. Some leaving their wigs and makeup on for the photo’s they were still snapping. John had gone with the flow and changed knowing dancing would be much more comfortable in the attire he had brought with. Leaving the makeup and earrings, he re-checked his bag and headed towards his mates.  
  
They had been out on the floor for about ten minutes before Harlotte came to claim him. She was stunning. Hot pink with large golden brocade edged with wide swathes of black lace and dangling beading on both on top and bottom that faded into hot pants that were covered with the same ruffling. His breath stopped before realizing this was a fantasy night. She wasn’t his to unwrap.  
  
Trailing her fingers down the buttons of his shirt, she fisted at the center of them, turned around, and pulled him along behind much to the amusement of his group that followed with whoops and hollers of ‘Do your worst’ and ‘Get the bloke Harlotte, he needs it!’ laughing all the way until the two were at the center stage poll.  
  
She backed John into a metal chair that had been put flush with the pole smiling wickedly before going behind him and turning it to face both the poll and the audience.  
  
 _I notice that you got it, notice that I want it..._  
  
“I’d hold on if I were you...Johnny.” Harlotte purred into his ear causing him to flush and the gents to rail and hoot in laughter.  
  
 _Never felt like this before..._  
  
She took over the pole like she was born to do nothing other than just this. Rolling her body, pushing away presenting her lush ruffled bottom and lacy bowed suspendered thigh-highs before dropping to her heels bobbing with the beat casting her arm behind to stroke John’s thigh.  
  
 _Watch me move when I lose, when I lose it hard..._  
  
As the remix caught up, Harlotte synced the moan that shuttered through the speakers before the drop looking right into John’s eyes. She was hoping the lyrics were seeping into his haze.  
  
 _Get you off with a touch dancin’ in the dark._  
 _You notice what I’m wearing, I notice you’re staring_  
 _You know that I can take it to the next level baby..._  
  
She rounded the chair, using the length of her legs to their fullest advantage moved straddling his lap barely touching his legs as she shimmied her body lower once again seating momentarily before ejecting once again to face the crowd and hop along with them keeping the energy high.  
  
 _I can’t take it, take it, take no more._  
  
 _Never felt like this before..._  
  
Harlotte spun back around and once again took John’s hand this time exiting the stage to finish the song properly grinding and bouncing to the beat taking every advantage with the way the beading swung and ruffles bounced adding to the naughtiness of their movements.  
  
 _Yea, oh_  
 _Yea, oh_  
  
“Come on, get me, what you waitin for?” She mouthed along with the lyrics yet again before twirling herself so she could grind John against her backside. He pulled against her, and gave all he got letting go in ways he hadn’t since before Afghanistan. It felt marvelous.  
  
 _Keep on dancing ‘til the world ends..._  
  
After a couple more songs Harlotte left his company to mingle for the last few hours until end of shift. Every once in awhile though their eyes would find one another, and the intensity was something to marvel at.  
  
As their group got ready to meander their way to go get some good drunk-food before heading their respective ways home, he tried to catch up with Harlotte before she left. Luck would have it that while she had already left, she had left him a quickly written note with her number and the promise to see him soon if he so wished. Instead of signing it, she chose to leave a kiss that was the perfect shade of raspberry. Hell, the note even smelled like her.  
  
Fuck he was in for it.  
  
“Greg, Dim, love you mates, but I’m going to head off.”  
  
“Be careful with that one John...” Greg warned him warmly.  
  
“Wanker. I’m off to go get some comeuppance, ta!”  
  
John entered a cab waiting along the curb to take those who had partied the latest home. As he punched in the number to his mobile, he decided texting in this case, might be less awkward.  
  
Thank you for your number. Got it from Lux. -John  
  
“Finally.” he breathed after a few minutes later there was a response.  
  
I’m glad. It was fun. -H  
  
Yes, quite. -John  
  
“No time like the present you idiot...” he chided himself rapidly firing off another text right behind the former.  
  
When can we see each other again? Proper date? -John  
  
Oh, I am quite sure we will see each other soon. -H  
  
Tomorrow night? Dinner? -John  
  
Sounds lovely. -H  
  
My flatmate is arriving. I need to go. Txt you later. -H  
  
Night lovely. -John  
  
Sweet words. -H  
  
The better to woo you with. -John  
  
Why don’t you come upstairs, it would be much more effective. -H  
  
What? Who is this? -John  
  
Come upstairs and find out. -H


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter until mid-morning. wanted to put this up for those reading along.  
> Thank you for the kudos and comments!!!
> 
> short update again to this chapter!

Even though John was slightly unsteady from the amount he had drank that night, he still was very apprehensive. Seventeen stairs later he was at their partially open door greeted with dim light and of all things a chair from the kitchen placed in the center of the room with other furniture moved away toward the fireplace or couch.  
  
“Evening John,” Harlotte demurred to her flatmate. “Kindly sit?”  
  
“Yes, well. I don’t think so. Where is Sherlock?”  
  
“Ah! Time will tell.”  
  
“Well I would rather now...”  
  
“Please. Let me play for a while longer John.”  
  
The crossroad ahead of him, John was unsure. He had gotten a proper drunk going and felt fuzzy and complacent. His nerves not frosting, he oddly trusted the woman he had just met which had only happened one oth-  
  
“Sherlock?”  
  
No, it couldn’t be-  
  
“Is that you?”  
  
“Possibly,” She came up along John, dancing her fingers from his thigh to sternum. “Trust me John...sit.”  
  
“Oh, fu- alright.”  
  
“Always so in control?”  
  
“Have to be, if you were Sherlock, you’d know that.”  
  
“And I do mon Capitaine.” She took her leave and went towards the bose, turning it on and turned to face John. She had given a three minute lead time of silence on the recording hoping that would be sufficient time to place herself before she began her performance.  
  
“Captain? How do you-” He was shocked almost to full sobriety. “Sherlock? Really?”  
  
“Hmm.” She made a noncommittal noise and smiled waiting for the music to start.  
  
 _Nothing about you is typical_  
 _Nothing about you is predictable..._  
  
She knew she had feelings for John, hoped that this might be enough to open what they had between them. As she playfully ran her fingers through John’s hair, she kept her eyes on him sending up a silent thought to whatever deity might be listening.  
  
 _Nothing to lose and I’m damaged ‘cause_  
 _Patterns will fall quick as they do..._  
  
Harlotte turned, facing away from John placing her bottom firmly in his lap. She could feel the heat and taught material through the lacy undergarment.  
  
“Touch me,” she breathlessly requested moving his hands to her hips as she arched back into the strength of John’s torso before placing her hand at the bottom-most clasp of the corset.  
  
 _Bridges are burning, baby, I’m learning._  
 _A new way of thinking now._  
 _Love I can see, nothing will be just like it was..._  
  
“Gods you are beautiful either way,” John murmured sweetly under his heated breath. “You know that, don’t you?”  
  
The blonde was most beautiful, but he moved it away for the want of her shoulder kissing it chastely.  
  
 _Maybe you’re not human ‘cause_  
 _Only an angel could be so unusual_  
 _Sweet surprise, I could get used to unusual you..._  
  
“You are heavenly love. Have been to me for ages now.” His voice turned gravely with unspoken need for the person in his arms. She answered by removing the corset leaving only her luxurious black lace and velvet piped bra her breathing hitched by the sentiment and the wonderfully callused hands holding on firmly to her waist. “Be whomever you choose to be.”  
  
 _Didn’t anyone tell you you’re supposed to break my heart?_  
 _I expect you to._  
 _So why haven’t you..._  
  
“I love you.”  
  
John kissed reverently along the back of her shoulders and neck luxuriating in the feel of the milky skin beneath his lips. It was just begging to be nipped at, so he did so gently proving no harm or bruising would occur.  
  
 _Been so many things when I was someone else._  
 _Boxer in the ring, trying to defend myself._  
 _The private eye to see what’s going on..._  
  
He pushed up and began moving her to face him, to turn her around in his lap when she stalled him.  
  
“Wait...”  
  
“Alright. Whatever you need.”  
  
She leaned against him fully his heart beat reverberating through her chest, breathing slowly becoming synchronous as they relaxed into their intimate climate.  
  
 _When I’m with you, I can just be myself._  
 _You’re always where you say you will be._  
 _Shocking because I never knew love like this could exist..._  
  
“I...love you too.” Sherlock sounded as he had just received the greatest epiphany and the most damning sentence in one breath. “Come with me? To my room?”  
  
“Anything...”  
  
“Let me go clean up and I will be right there.”  
  
 _Tables are turning._  
 _My heart is soaring._  
 _You’ll never let me down._  
  
“Are you sure. You are quite striking either way love.”  
  
“No. I want to be with you, not the personae.”  
  
 _Answer the call, here after all._  
 _Never met anyone like you..._  
  
“I’ll wait then. In your room.”

Sherlock went straight upstairs to John’s room and into his small ensuite closing the door. He needed a minute to scrub the earlier part of the night off, and if truth be told, to give himself a moment to breath. Things were changing in such rapid pace that he needed time to settle his mental reorganization as well as his nerves. 

It helped that he was now standing in John’s small shower smelling his soap, the one Sherlock had purchased for him for his birthday. It was tannic and woodsy only helping to exacerbate John’s base sent making it feel as if he were there in the with him. He grabbed the fresh flannel he had brought in and squeezed a generous portion onto it before working it into a serious lather.

He scrubbed his face and neck judiciously followed by his arms and torso wanting to be swift. When he reached his burgeoning erection he cleaned the whole area with care hissing at the sensitivity before gently cleaning and preparing himself for his lover. Sherlock moaned as he explored inserting one of his own fingers and hissed at the sight burn. As he extracted it all his thoughts were centered on John. John’s hands. John’s mouth. 

He rinsed with determined speed, the non-knowledge burning him from within before turning off the tap. 

“Sherlock?” There was a small tap on the door as it cracked open. John’s steady hand snaked in with an offering of a double shot of whiskey and Sherlock's plaid dressing gown. “I know it’s not your prefered. You won’t be drunk or anything, but it will help you to relax. Your choice love.”

“Thank you.” He said as he took it and downed it before handing the glass back through the door. “I’ll be right out. Promise.”

“Take all the time you need. I’m here when you are ready.” 

‘No time like the present,’ Sherlock mused as he finished drying and threw the robe over his wiry frame just barely closing and tying it. He smiled as he felt the warm burn begin to settle making him languid. ‘Not as if it’s going to be on very long...’

As he left the ensuite he immediately noticed that John had set a few candles to burning and smiled at the gesture.

“I want to see you in this light Sherlock,” John simply stated striding to him. “Not the harshness of my lamp or not at all in the dark. This ok?”

“It’s fi- fine John.” Taken aback at the soft words John was speaking he stuttered, then growled at himself internally. It must have shown. 

“It’s alright. Just us.” John collected him in his arms and claimed Sherlock’s lips with the subtle unfolding urgency one would kiss someone they cherished. An all knowing kiss that spoke of determination and support of a more practiced lover. Soft open mouthed kisses followed by tentative sweeps and darts of exploration. It was heaven. John ran his hand into Sherlock’s still damp hair pulling him deeper into the kiss. His tongue begged purchase with such need that Sherlock could hardly deny him.

**Author's Note:**

> wanted to state about time difference. An hour and a half from Sherlock seeing John and everyone is about 4 hours into their pub crawl. at least as i see it.


End file.
